In the last 24 hours I've had text messages from four friends in three countries, all complaining of Sunday morning hangovers.
First to arrive was the Australian contingent. It seems Sydney on a Saturday can do as much damage as ever. That said, if you have to do the walk of shame, then you may as well do it in style - and crossing the Sydney Harbour Bridge in last night's clothes is pretty classy. For an Australian.
Amsterdam delivered a night of rock karaoke, and a level of alcohol appropriate for someone who got up on stage and sang 'School's Out'....
God bless London, bringing as it did for my Southern Softy friend an evening of genteel conversation at a dinner party that lasted into the wee small hours. A classy dinner party that apparently involved tequila slammers in the host's kitchen at 3am.
Finally, to Antwerp where a family wedding for my Belgian colleague turned into an all night affair. Apparently the soiree ended with some amazing weed in the bridesmaid's room. You couldn't make it up. My colleague wishes he had - I think waking up chez the bridesmaid wasn't what he had in mind....
As for me, well it was my first Saturday night in Birmingham for a while. I hit a couple of bars with some friends and then went on to a club. I arrived at the club with two friends. I'm not saying who I left with.
Suffice to say, every one of us thinks we suffered the most.
Hangovers used to just pass me by when I was a youth. With each passing year the hangover gets worse and worse. This morning I woke up with a head that felt like it had been used by the Ukrainian basketball team for hoop practice. My body ached all over and my mouth felt like I'd been chewing on a cigar in my sleep. Luckily I didn't have far to walk home ;-)
Having spent the morning watching the BBC coverage of the Olympics I'm starting to feel a little more human.
How was it for you?